A candle is lit.
It flickers, the warm glow dancing over the walls and table.
After a moment's hesitation, a hasty breath blows it out.
And for a moment, there is darkness, interrupted only by the bright moon and pinprick stars that poke twinkling holes in the fabric of night.
The candle is relit.
This time, the flame is steady.
A reluctant hand lights another candle. Another, another, another.
The same hands pull an intricately decorated vase from its packaging. It's placed at the center of the table. Two perfect roses are slipped into the ceramic.
Pastel petals are scattered over the white, lacy tablecloth, carefully out of the way of the tiny flames.
A plate is set down on either side of the table. Silverware is arranged, napkins are neatly folded and strategically placed.
The curtains are replaced by translucent fabric, drawn ever so slightly so the light of the moon still softly smiles through.
A tender, lilting song is selected, with almost incoherent lyrics sung by a
The volume is turned low; a gentle murmuring that trickles over the scene like a flowing river.
The only thing missing is the food; but it's hardly cared for.
She sits, gazing at where her partner should be.
A soft breeze whispers through the cracked open window; the curtains flutter, and for a moment she catches the scent of her lover.
It's never enough.
She opens a bag that leans against the table and withdraws a framed photo.
Her fingers ghost over the two figures in the photo.
One is her; a white dress that drips from her shoulders with a train that drags behind.
A fond smile plays on her lips as she traces over her wife's features.
She traces the outline of her face. She follows the beautiful joy that dimples her cheeks and lights her eyes.
She closes her eyes when they begin to water, allowing herself to remember the relationship they'd shared; the beautiful love that had tied the two of them together.
"I love you," her voice whispers. "And I will never forget you."